This is the story of a birth.

You know life is good when the days sort of blend one in to another in a blur of baby bliss–those toes & fingers & cheeks, the middle of the night feedings, that new baby smell.  And everything seems to be covered in a glow of newness.

{For those who’ve dealt with post-partum depression & you read this thinking–this lady must be on crack, you have to understand I don’t enjoy pregnancy much at all. In fact, you could say I get a sort of heaviness in spirit, especially towards the end. Depression maybe? But as soon as the baby comes out of me, the birds are a chirpin’, rainbows, puppies, & sunshine everywhere. I feel like a brand new woman.}

As I mentioned in this post, I had my reservations about going natural this time around. Particularly in light of the fact I was to be induced (because of my gestational diabetes). It weighed on my mind the week I knew I was to be induced. Knowing the pain, knowing it would be more acute because of an induction, & questioning my reasoning for going pain-med free. I’d done it four times after all, what’s the big deal.

I’ll tell you what’s the big deal. Each time it has been hard, & this time I knew it would be harder because of the induction.

Here’s how it went down.

We arrived at the hospital sometime mid-day. The labor & delivery unit of the hospital was packed to the brim.

“We haven’t had this many births in who knows when,” nurse after nurse told us.

I was hooked up to blood pressure monitor, baby monitor, possibly other monitors, I’m not sure. There was a lot of monitoring going on, questions being asked, doctors & nurses coming in & out.

Sometime around mid-afternoon a foley bulb was inserted. I came to the hospital at a 2 (dilation), so the foley bulb was going to get things going before they put me on pitocin. It’s like a tampon that is filled with water and expands, putting pressure on the cervix which causes contractions and softens the cervix. For the first hour or so, it was no big deal, but as time wore on, the contractions grew more uncomfortable.

Joseph went out to grab some food (for him, not me, much to my chagrin).

During the hour or so he was gone, the contractions grew more intense & the foley bulb was beginning to get on my nerves. I just really wanted them to get it out of me (think super sized tampon–not something you want inside of you for very long).

When Joseph came back he was surprised to find me, laying very still, eyes closed, not moving or talking. This is how I get towards end of labor when things get intense. Though, at this point I wasn’t at the end of labor, but rather, at the beginning. The nurse came in sometime around 5:00 & removed the foley bulb. I was now at a 4, but as soon as she removed it, the contractions pretty much stopped. The plan was to put me on pitocin & start up the contractions again.

But they weren’t ready to do that.

They were undermanned, overbooked & I wasn’t on the urgent/priority list. So we waited. We watched re-runs of Seinfield. 7 o’clock rolled around. Then 8 o’clock. Nurses kept coming in, reassuring us that they would get to me as soon as they could, but they never gave me anything concrete.

9 o’clock hit & that’s when I’d had enough of the run around. I hadn’t eaten since 11 that morning. Tired, hungry (hangry?), & feeling like I was being shuffled from nurse to nurse & not given any straight answers, I got up the nerve to be bold with the nurses and demand to know what was going on.

A few nurses & a doctor came in to explain that they had several emergency c-sections & they were doing the best they could. I just wanted to know what was going on, & what was going to happen to me. It was frustrating, not knowing.

An epidural seemed to be inevitable. I was tired, (really) hungry, & couldn’t fathom being in labor through the night, while on pitocin.

I spoke with several anesthesiologists. I asked a lot of questions. What are the risks? What are the benefits? How might it affect the baby? How does it work exactly? How much pain will I feel? How will it help my labor? How could it cause possible complications? After my questions were satisfied, I decided, what the heck, let’s go for it. (My biggest concern was that it was going to negatively affect the baby, but I was told by three different anesthesiologists that the pain med only numbs a portion of my spinal column & doesn’t enter my bloodstream, or the baby’s.)

I should mention this was at a military hospital. The largest in-patient military hospital in the U.S. One of the awesome things about being in the military is medical care is covered. 100%. Meaning, no co-pays, no deductibles. No bills. It’s awesome.

What’s not awesome however, is feeling like you’re a product on an assembly line being shuffled from nurse to nurse, doctor to doctor. There were many times during my stay where I just felt like shouting at the top of my lungs–“wait a second, who’s in charge here?!” Because it seemed that no one, and everyone was in charge, all at the same time, and it was confusing.

That aside, all but one medical professional, were absolutely helpful, competent, & understanding.

At 11 pm, a very nice & thorough anesthesiologist came in & prepped me for receiving the epidural. They wanted to give me the epidural before they broke my water & started me on pitocin.  I was surprised at how simple the process was–I never saw a needle & the injection felt like the faintest of bee stings on the middle of my back. Once they made the injection, they inserted a very thin tube (looked like fishing line), which delivered the pain meds to the specific area in my spine that is responsible for me feeling pain in the abdomen & pelvis.

The doctor had asked me how much pain I wanted to feel. I was like: “Are you kidding me? If I’m getting an epidural, I’d rather not feel anything. If I’m getting it, I’m going all the way, thank you.”  He followed orders, because once the epidural kicked in, I didn’t feel a thing. Nothing. It was a bit surreal.

At midnight, once they were sure my epidural was “working,” they broke my water. Usually when this happens (ie. in my 4 previous natural births), I move into an extremely painful portion of labor. Meaning transition, then pushing, is just around the corner. It was a bit odd because I was only at a 5 when they broke my water. Let me just say again–I didn’t feel anything. I felt like someone had given my legs a shot of Novocaine. I could move my feet & toes, but my legs felt very heavy.

I think prior to this, I would have been scared to not feel anything, but at this point, I was relishing the fact. I was able to drift in & out of sleep. Though I was scared to actually fall asleep. After all, how would I know when it was time to push if I was asleep and I didn’t feel any pain? The thought kept me a bit on edge. They put me on pitocin around 1:30. Sometime around 3 am, after falling in and out of sleep, my eyes shot open. I knew something was different. I didn’t know what exactly, but I called the nurse (who by the way, was such a lovely, helpful, & kind woman). She checked me.

“It’s time to push, lady. Get ready.”

Really? It was time to push? Now this was exciting. I couldn’t believe it.

Prior experience had taught me the only way I knew it was time to push was when I was on death’s door, all the pain and pressure in the world bearing down on my lower lady parts. But not this time around. I didn’t feel anything but excitement–I would soon meet the newest member of our family. It was just around the corner. And I was not in any pain. At all.

The doctor was called and within a few pushes Tyndale was born a little after 3 am, January 11. Alert, healthy, fully intact with all the appropriate appendages, finger, & toes.

He was handsome, beautiful. I know, most newborns come out all goopy, with scrawny limbs & a puffy face. More alien-like than child-like. But when it’s your child, your creation, he is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

I nursed him right away, & the medical staff encouraged Joseph & I to spend lots of time holding him before they took him away to measure & clean him.

A few hours later I was able to get out of bed and use the bathroom. By mid-morning I had full feeling back in my legs. The after-birth uterine cramps weren’t as bad as previous times, I think partly because of the epidural & partly because I was given a good dose of Motrine.

Was the epidural worth it? Yes, oh yes. Did I have any negative side effects? Not that I know of. My recovery was quick (no tears, no soreness)–I was released the next day (Sunday). Would I have an epidural again? Yes, yes, YES.

I don’t know what more to add, only that this birth was a gift. I enjoyed myself, everything went smoothly (despite all the waiting), & in the end, we got our healthy baby boy.

Life is good.

So good.